Holly Crowe, under the expectant gaze of her friends, left the dormitory building and headed toward the west gate.
Even when she was still so distance away from the gate, she already spotted that familiar figure.
Blake Sinclair was wearing a dark gray shirt, the top two buttons casually undone, with a simple white T-shirt underneath.
He stood nonchalantly under the shade of a tree, dappled light dancing across his form.
Just standing there quietly, he was a scene in himself, attracting the gazes of many passing students, and frequent glances from female admirers.
Holly’s heart began to race uncontrollably.
She had always known that Blake Sinclair was handso, but perhaps her mindset had changed—seeing him now, he seed more dazzling than ever before.
Just then, a sweet-looking girl, encouraged by her companion, blushingly and timidly approached Blake Sinclair, looked up and said sothing to him, then carefully took out her phone.
She was asking for his WeChat.
Holly’s steps halted, a bitter jealousy tightening around her heart.
She had seen people ask for Blake Sinclair’s WeChat before, but mostly she just brushed it off with a smile.
Yet at this mont, the feeling was completely different; she was jealous, envious of that girl who could express her admiration and affection so openly in front of him.
Holly suddenly realized she had no standing to intervene or assert any claim.
She was just his "sister."
Nothing more.
The sunlight seed more glaring as she closed her eyes briefly, forcing down the hot tears welling up in her eyes.
When she opened them again, she found his handso face now very close.
Blake Sinclair had sohow already walked up to her; the girl asking for his WeChat was long gone.
He lowered his gaze, quietly observing her.
"What are you daydreaming about?"
His voice was low and pleasant, carrying his unique magnetism.
Holly snapped back to reality, blushing slightly, hurriedly lowering her head, not daring to et his eyes.
Blake Sinclair lightly supported her back, "Get in the car, it’s hot outside."
His gesture was intimate and natural. In the past, Holly would have found this nothing out of the ordinary.
But at this mont, the warmth from his fingertips through the thin fabric of her coat felt like an electric current, tingling.
Blake Sinclair had booked a quiet Cantonese restaurant.
After they sat down, the waiter quickly brought the pre-dinner drinks.
Blake Sinclair handed over a spoon, "This restaurant’s bayberry ice slush is quite good, give it a try and see if you like it."
"Thank you, Brother Blake."
Holly took the spoon and scooped a small bite.
The ice cream was sweet, mixed with the unique slight tartness of bayberry, refreshing and light, very tasty.
Normally, she would be satisfied and enjoy large bites.
But today, she felt that beneath the sweetness, there was more bitterness, just like her current mood.
To maintain a reserved and ladylike image in front of the person she adored, she ate in small bites.
Yet her eyes kept straying to the person across from her, but just as her gaze was about to et his, she panicked and lowered her eyes.
Blake Sinclair looked at Holly across from him, furrowing his brows.
Too quiet.
This was unlike her.
Usually, from the mont they got in the car, she would start sharing stories about school.
But today, from the mont they t until now, she had hardly spoken.
In the car, she had her head buried in her phone, and at the restaurant, even when eating her favorite bayberry slush, she wasn’t happy, instead absent-minded, holding the slush in her mouth for a long ti.
Was she unhappy?
Or was the slush not to her taste?
Moreover, most importantly, ever since they t, she seed to be avoiding his gaze.
Blake Sinclair felt a trace of inexplicable irritation and disappointnt pass through his heart.
A bit of ice cream clung to the corner of Holly’s mouth, he naturally reached for a napkin, intending to help her wipe it away.
He had done this countless tis over the past decade or so.
When they were kids, he helped her wipe away food crumbs and smudges at the corner of her mouth all the ti, nothing unusual.
However, this ti, as soon as his hand reached out, Holly recoiled, avoiding his touch.
Blake Sinclair’s hand froze in mid-air, seeing the flicker in Holly’s eyes, the irritation and doubt in his heart deepened.
Holly guiltily lowered her head, grabbed a napkin and haphazardly wiped her mouth, "I can do it myself."
Her avoidance was entirely an instinctual reaction.
After realizing her own "unsavory" thoughts, she could no longer comfortably accept such intimate gestures.
She feared that such touches would cause her heart to lose pace, revealing her secret feelings to him.
Just then, her phone screen lit up, showing a ssage from Joy Sherman in the dorm group chat: "How’s it going? How’s the battle? Did you test the waters? [Mischievous smile]"
Seeing this ssage, Holly rembered the important mission this al had.
After absentmindedly eating half a bowl of bayberry slush, Holly finally raised her head to et Blake Sinclair’s gaze.
"Brother Blake."
"Hmm?"
Blake Sinclair put down his glass, waiting for her to continue.
He liked it when she focused on him like this because at that mont, in those eyes, there was only the image of him.
"How long do you plan to stay this ti after returning to the country?"
Holly redirected her words, deciding to build up to it first.
Blake Sinclair, seeing her tense face, found it amusing yet curious about what was up with her today.
"A little over half a month. This ti back, besides seeing you, I’m also starting to handle so of the dostic Group affairs, preparing for the future developnt back here."
Hearing "a little over half a month," Holly’s eyes brightened instantly.
This ant they would have more opportunities to et.
"Half a month? Then I’ll treat you to dinner next ti!"
Blake Sinclair was pleased by the sparkle that appeared in her eyes, a smile unconsciously curved his lips, "Sure. This ti I’m back for long-term preparation."
"If things go smoothly, I won’t need to shuttle between Norchester and Brelond, and I’ll officially take over the Sinclair Group. We’ll also be able to et often."
Being able to et often!
Those words lted like honey in Holly’s heart, dispelling much of the earlier bitterness.
She nodded vigorously, unable to suppress the upward curve of her lips.
Seeing her finally show her familiar smile, Blake Sinclair’s mood also lightened as he pushed the dishes she liked closer to her.
The atmosphere seed to ease a bit.
Seizing the opportunity, Holly, pretending to be nonchalant, asked, "Brother Blake, I have a friend."
"She...she seems to have fallen for soone, but she’s not sure about his feelings. She’s very worried that if she confesses rashly and he doesn’t like her, they might not even be friends. What do you think, should she confess?"
Finishing this, Holly’s heart was almost in her throat.
Blake Sinclair tightened his grip on the chopsticks slightly.
He was all too familiar with the expression Holly wore now.
Conflicted, guilty, expectant, afraid.
Growing up together, she shared almost all her secrets and worries with him, but he had never seen her wear such an expression, unique to young girls with fluttering hearts, troubled by love.
And the phrase "I have a friend," in his experience, was almost akin to fabricating a friend out of thin air.
So, Holly had fallen for soone?
The calm lake in his heart surged with waves because of this sentence.
His throat felt like it was clogged, dry and tight.
He picked up the chilled lemon water beside him, tilted his head back, and drank more than half a glass.
The icy liquid slid down his throat, just barely suppressing that surge of discomfort, allowing him to find his voice.
"Love is not child’s play."
His voice was deeper and more serious than usual, "Especially for girls, caution is essential. Your...your friend might consider observing a while longer, to better understand the person’s character and sincerity, no need to rush."
While he spoke with a plausible reason, his mind was racing, planning to have his assistant investigate all suspicious males around Holly recently.
"Oh...I see."
Holly’s eyes visibly dimd.
She lowered her head, stirring the remaining slush in the bowl, her voice muffled, "Alright, I’ll let her know."
The fla of anticipation was doused with a bucket of cold water, yet she was still not willing to give up: "Then, Brother Blake, what about you? Do you like anyone?"
Asking this, Holly felt as if her heart might stop.
She held her breath, awaiting the verdict of fate.
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